


Monster Mine

by shewhospeakswiththunder



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Breathplay, Bullying, Child Neglect, F/M, Growing Up Together, Human/Monster Romance, I mean basically just with lots of hands, Kissing, Kylo is a nebulous shadow monster, Make of it what you will, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Past Abuse, Post-Coital Cuddling, Tentacle Sex, Thumb-sucking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wall Street, here come the smut tags, monster in the closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:54:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24751945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewhospeakswiththunder/pseuds/shewhospeakswiththunder
Summary: Rey is a super successful CEO, but came up from humble beginnings... and her best friend is the monster in her closet.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 18
Kudos: 127
Collections: Reylo Theme Event Summer





	Monster Mine

  


Little trails of water glide down the windows of Rey’s taxi, wet pavement outside reflecting car tail lights and the glow of neon, the drumming of rain constant, but fading from her attention like white noise. Toying absent-mindedly with her phone, she thinks about the emails and voicemails waiting for her behind the thin glass screen—an invisible cyber-network of communiques and inquiries that shouldn’t be left until Monday morning, but would be nonetheless.

Each night when Rey opens the door to another yellow taxi, she turns off the mental switch that powers her workplace with her knowledge and authority.

She has carved out a name for herself among the legends of corporate wealth. On weekdays, she steps among loafer-footed men with ties cinched like nooses around their throats and listens while words like ‘GDP’ and ‘S&P’ fall from their mouths like alphabet soup. But Rey sees through them, through the slim-cut suits they wear like armor and the Ivy League dreams that fuel them when nights are sleepless and days are long.

The truth of the fear they hide behind their designer frames and their bleached white teeth.

Rey does not hide her fear. She isn’t afraid of anything.

She does get tired, though. Fatigued by the wear and tear of supplies versus demand, of spindly graphs that pretend to predict the fortunes of a few and the downfall of many. Some days, her stilettos pinch her toes too tightly and rub her heels raw, and the vise of her pencil skirt digs too sharply into the skin of her belly. The grating of the greedy roar on the floor below her office window sometimes makes her clench her manicured hands and the lipsticked corners of her mouth curl down in a grimace.

Rey tries not to hate them. They do not see the lie of it all.

The taxi pulls up to the tall gray building next to all the other tall gray buildings and Rey pays the driver with a black piece of plastic that is heavier than it looks. Ten drops of rain hit her before she reaches the awning, and she flashes the doorman the easy, megawatt smile she reserves only for mere acquaintances.

Once indoors, her strides click on the marble floor, and with a soft ding the elevator doors slide open, slide closed. Forty floors sweep past, and Rey is patient.

Elegance and polish greet her entrance to the penthouse, keys clinking in their tray as she sets them down. Her briefcase meets the floor, her coat the hook on the wall.

A fleeting shadow darts behind the kitchen counter as she uncorks a bottle of crisp rosé and pours it into glimmering crystal. She swirls, sips, and smiles.

Waits.

Rey is not afraid. But she is hungry.

***

_The fat man with the wide smile who smelled bad locked her in a closet, and Rey was scared. She cried, afraid of the monsters in the closet and the ones outside, too._

_But something warm like a blanket spread over her and little Rey sniffled, then feel asleep._

_***_

_Rey had snuck into the older girls’ room and opened the plastic green box with all their Barbie dolls, a treasure chest she’d long envied. On discovering the Barbie-size horse with moveable legs, she almost squealed in delight but clapped a hand over her mouth—she would get in so much trouble if the fat man knew she was in this room._

_Barbie was just on her way to rescue Goldie the Horse from captivity when something stirred in the corner of Rey’s eye, dragging her attention away from the extraction effort._

_Underneath the window, in the slim shadow thrown by the door against the wall in the late afternoon, something moved. Tilting her head and squinting, Rey could just barely make out the silhouette of a little body peeking around the door’s edge._

_Setting Barbie down, adventure all but forgotten, Rey said, “Hello?”_

_The shadow stirred again._

_“Are you real?” Rey asked, a little frightened._

_“Are you?” echoed a tiny voice from behind the door._

_Rey clicked her tongue. “Of course I’m real.”_

_“Then I am, too.”_

_With a huff, Rey continued, “Well, who are you?”_

_“Who am I?” it questioned, pensive._

_It occurred to Rey that the conversation had left the trodden path of the normal and her brow furrowed. “You’re a shadow boy.”_

_The silhouette darkened, gaining substance._

_“But what’s your name?” Rey insisted, and he scooted a few inches out from the door’s shadow._

_Mirroring his movement, Rey then reached out her hand to touch him just as he did the same. When their hands met, at first his touch was cool and shapeless, but it quickly warmed and solidified on contact into a dark hand much like hers._

_With his help, Rey and Barbie rescued Goldie over and over again until the older girls came back from school and kicked her out of their room. They didn’t mention the shadow boy at all, and Rey supposed they couldn’t see him like she could, but she was disappointed when he vanished into a puff as she retreated to her own room._

_When he reappeared from the darkness inside her closet, Rey grinned._

_***_

_She named him Kylo, and he was her best friend._

_Although he couldn’t follow her to school when next autumn came, confined to the house she called home, he would wrap his arms around her when, crying, she ran off the bus. He would tell her, “I don’t care what you wear or what they say. I just like you because you’re you.”_

_***_

_When homework got harder, Rey got taller, and evenings grew longer as she fought with mathematic equations and agonized over half-meaningless multiple choice, he would tuck her hair behind her ear and whisper, “I know you can figure this out.”_

_***_

_When college seemed like a far-flung dream and Rey’s nights were spent envisioning the nightmare of never venturing farther than the borders of her stupid little town, he would hold her and reassure her, “You’re too big and too bright for this place. It can’t keep you, and it never will.”_

_***_

_On other types of nights, when Rey would wake in the early hours of darkness before dawn with a strange pressure between her legs that refused to let her fall back asleep, Kylo would worry._

_“I don’t know what to do about it,” she whispered, frustrated. She couldn’t afford to lose sleep over this problem when an important test loomed over the next day. “I try to ignore it, but it won’t go away.”_

_“Can I help?”_

_Kylo lay curled around her back in her narrow bed, his chin resting lightly on her neck and one arm draped over her waist._

_It seemed as though her own body didn’t even know what it needed, and her attempts to relieve the pressure by squeezing her legs together had only made it worse._

_“I don’t know, I…” She paused. “Maybe.”_

_“Where is it bothering you?” he asked, genuinely curious._

_Taking his hand with her own, so much more real to touch than to sight, she slid it down to the spot over her underwear, shivering at the brush of his fingers there._

_Slipping his hand out from under hers, he slid it under the elastic hem and went back to the place she’d shown him, tucking one finger into her and grazing the pressure point. She jumped with a gasp._

_“That’s it, right there.” Her voice shook, her breathing coming faster, and he moved his finger further back, meeting wetness._

_“Is this helping?”_

_Rey bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah—can you…?”_

_Movement easier now that he was coated in slick, he caught the spot again and Rey squirmed as he used two fingers and lingered there, rubbing and teasing while a different, stronger pressure built up inside her lower belly, tightening, tighter and tighter, until her back arched with the intensity of it and it released in waves that rolled through her body and gushed onto his hand._

_“I liked that,” Kylo said as Rey fell still, feeling hazy, light, and sated._

_“I liked it, too.”_

_She had no trouble sleeping after that._

_***_

A huff of breath on the back of Rey’s neck sends shivers down her spine, and she sets her wine glass down on the granite countertop with a half-smile.

“I was wondering where you were,” she murmurs, turning to face the form bathed in shadow behind her.

To her eyes, incorporeal, shifting; a cloud of darkness towering over her in the shadows cast by the dim recessed lighting. She splays her fingers over his chest, and under her touch, he is warm and real.

“Rough day,” speaks Kylo, picking her scattered thoughts out of thin air as he always does.

The itch under her skin blossoms, the one that races through her veins to settle in the parts of her that long for pleasure and sweet release.

“I’m happy to be home,” Rey says.

Kylo cups the base of her head and rewards her with a kiss that tastes like restraint.

“Are you tired?” he whispers in her ear.

“No,” she whispers back, before disentangling herself from his embrace and walking to her bedroom.

Materializing at the foot of her bed, he states with a commanding tone, “I want to watch this time.”

Rain patters against the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking her claim, a territory of asphalt and skyscrapers, of bright lies and glamorous ruin, the faint glow of the city lights far below painting her skin pale.

Rey peels off each layer of authority and office and lets it drop to the hardwood floor, leaving behind only the marks on her skin where each garment had bitten into her soft curves.

Picking her up bodily and laying her on the sea of linen, Kylo takes each knee and guides it to the side, opening her up to him. He hovers over her, while the beating of her heart feeds the familiar pulse of want inside her.

“Where should I start?” he breathes, indecisive only for a moment before placing a large hand over her right breast. “Here, I think.”

He squeezes her tit and presses up, and at the sound of her sigh his fingers drift to her nipple, teasing it to tautness by circling around the peak.

“Then here.” Leaning down, he places an open-mouthed kiss to her left nipple, his fingers unrelenting on the other, suckling at her until her body rolls under him, calling for his attention in the aching places yet untouched.

A caress at her throat tells her to prepare, and then a hand cages it, firm, but breath still coming easy.

No ministration slackens—fingers playing with one nipple, his hot mouth on the other, the light but unrelenting hold on her neck.

“More,” she begs, before he sticks his thick thumb in her mouth, and she sucks, moaning around it.

“Now, my favorite part.” His voice is a little hoarse, and he spreads her legs wider with his knees, dipping _another_ finger into her slick and sliding up to trace around her clit.

Still, nothing has let up—not the nipple play, the lapping mouth, the brace to her throat, the thumb in her mouth she’s drooling around, the teasing finger at her clit—but then everything stops, and he inhales.

Rey wiggles, seeking the friction he’s withdrawn, and is about to protest this abrupt halt when Kylo interrupts her.

“What about this one?”

The light pressure against her asshole makes Rey’s eyes roll back in her head, and every other touch immediately slams back into action. When Kylo’s finger slowly pushes up into her ass Rey’s lips pop off his thumb with a groan of pleasure.

Every inch of her that he holds is alive with sensation, and just knowing it’s him, unbounded by physical form and hers, all _hers,_ drives her closer and closer to the pleasure-edge her body is crying for.

His dick presses up against her entrance, and with one smooth push of his hips, he is inside her.

He is everywhere in her and on her—her mouth, her pussy, her ass, each tit attended to—and she loves him, loves that he fills her up in every good way, wants this truth to be forever, and she bursts.

Wave after crashing wave rushes through her, and Kylo holds her down through the force of it, anchoring her to the bed.

Rey is weightless. Satisfied.

“So beautiful, I love seeing you this way,” Kylo mutters close to her ear. “I love seeing you come apart for me.”

Looking up, Rey is taken aback as she considers the outline of his usually opaque form, surprised at how… _solid_ he seems. She runs her hand over his chest, and her eyes slide down his body, and for the first time, she sees his engorged cock hanging in the space between them. In wonder, she reaches out and wraps her hand around it, eyes widening at the feel of it in her palm, hot and hard. Bringing it flush to her and guiding it inside, she moans as he slips back into her.

“Come for me,” she says. He never had before, too incorporeal perhaps, the mechanics never quite right. He knows her so well, body and soul, but he was still a mystery to her.

“I don’t think I—”

“I think you can this time,” she encourages him, the intuition bubbling up into excitement.

He rolls into her experimentally and then stills, Rey’s eyes drifting shut at the feel of him.

_“Fuck.”_

Planting his arms on either side of her, he snaps his hips up, again and again, losing himself a little more with each rough thrust, driving her into the mattress. Chasing the edge.

“I’m _coming—"_

Surprised, he slams into her with a grunt and rides out his orgasm, Rey’s body squeezing him, the pulsing of his dick pushing her over once more—

And then he vanishes in a puff.

“Kylo?” Rey calls, half-laughing as she raises herself up onto her elbows and looks around the dark room.

“I’m here,” he says in a bleary voice, not reappearing but settling over her in an invisible blanket of warmth.

“Took it out of you, huh?” she teases, easing into a more comfortable position underneath him.

“Worth it,” he mumbles, before falling silent.

Dreamless sleep claims Rey, sated, safe, and full of the truth that all the things the money-hungry people of this world craved meant less than nothing. What Rey loved, what she held in her arms, meant more than all the money in the universe could ever buy. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you times a million to HarpiaHarpyja for betaing this!!! She is phenomenal 😁💕
> 
> Also, SO happy to have been mentioned in the Reylo Hidden Gems' "Spooky Gems" rec list! They even made me this lovely piece! 😍💕
> 
>   
>   
> 


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